Bereniel the Bold
by The Lead Mare
Summary: "Everything was cold, and dark. Mama was gone, and so was my daddy; I was scared. But then a voice came, so beautiful, and it took all of the bad things away. I was safe." Life in Imladris, in an orphaned horse's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**BEFORE WE BEGIN**

This is the first fanfic I've posted, so please be nice. idk when this takes place, I'll figure it out later

And no making fun of the newbee if anything's outa whack, this is kind of a test run, getting used to this site.

And I write on Wordpad (my computer had to be reset; stupid viruses), and unfortunately it doesn't have spellcheck so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes you may see.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of Tolkien's works, or any of the characters you may recognize here.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

Cold. It was so, so cold. Everything was dark. And it was raining, the water piercing my hide; my soft baby coat was unable to repel the water. A sweet, sickening smell took over all other senses; I didn't know what it was, but I knew I would never want to smell it again.

_ Mama?_ I called,_ Mama!?_

She did not answer. I was scared. And then I realized that the sick smell was coming right from her; I looked over, and Mama lay still, even as I called for her. I called, louder and louder and louder; she wouldn't get up. I blew a harsh puff of air from my nose, trying to block out the paralyzing scent of the dark liquid pouring from her body.

Then there was a new kind of thunder, the kind of thunder my daddy, the leader of our big family, would make with his feet. I've tried to make the same noise too, but it just wasn't the same.

The new thunder stopped, and then there were light kind of footsteps, kind of like mine. I couldn't see who it was, for the rain, flashes, and loud noises made it difficult to make sense of anything. I felt like I was drowning.

Two gentle, strange things grasped my small form, and I was picked up and held by a strange, warm being. I thrashed at the unfamiliarity of it all. I just wanted my Mama!

And then a voice, so sweet, came and took all of the bad things away; it was so unlike my Mama's, which I knew well, or any other thing I'd seen. It was the polar opposite of the things that had taken her life.

I was lifted onto an even taller thing, and it smelled so much like those in my family, and I realized it _was_ one of the things that was in my family, and it brought me great comfort.

A great tremor came and then we were moving faster than I ever have, and I was scared, but the gentle thing held me, and I knew I wouldn't fall.

Then I saw a light, and the moving thing stopped, and the thing that picked me up held me once again, and the other stallion followed him. He began walking quickly towards the lights.

_Why do they never cease their walking?_

The thing holding me, I realized, did not walk on four legs. He only had two! How then did he-

Light! Light was everywhere, and a few more two-legged ones, and I was brought to a pen. I began to panic; I had never been closed in before! But the two-legged one with the golden hair, the gentle one, stayed with me.

He spoke with the voice to a few others like him, and a few of them ran off; was he the leader? He looked big enough to be the daddy of a bunch of colts and fillies in a herd.

He set me down into a pile of soft yellow stuff, and left the pen; I snorted, displeased and craving his warmth.

~0~0~0~0~0~

"Her herd escaped the meadow in the storm," Glorfindel said, "Orcs had already found them before we could."

"How many?" Elrond swallowed.

"Four, not including her. Two mares, another colt, and a stallion."

"Poor thing," Erestor said. Elves were quite attached to their horses, and this was a hard blow to the occupants of the Valley of Imladris. "At least she made it out."

"What shall we do?" Elladan asked, standing next to his brother and sister, "She cannot yet be weaned. She is too young."

Arwen stood looking over the stall door at the small filly. The foal stared back.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Then there were more voices, and they spoke for a small bit. And a new face peered over the door to my enclosure. She was so pretty, a little strange, but pretty. But not as pretty as my Mama was.

Then the golden-haired one, who was strange like the lady, came over also and let himself in and kneeled down. I leaned for his touch, and he put one of his strange hands on my neck.

He treated me like my Mama treated me. Was he going to be my Mama now?

~0~0~0~0~0~

"Ada?" Arwen said, "Do we have any of the old bottles my the twins' and my youth?"

Elrond seemed taken aback, then understood his daughter's motives.

"Perhaps, though I doubt they would be large enough for a horse," he turned to his sons, "Can you two go see if you can find any?"

The twins nodded and turned and left.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Even though the two-legged one had been kind to me, I was still a foal, and sometimes foals can get cranky.

I had been through a lot; I was tired, I wanted my Mama, and now I was hungry.

I could sense both the protective instinct from the being hovering over me. I knew you could not get milk from the males in our herd, but maybe the two-legged were different?

I butted my head on his chest, and nipped at his abdomen.

A sudden musical sound was emitted from one of the two-legged outside of my pen; soon, others joined in. I didn't understand what was so amusing; I was hungry!

~0~0~0~0~0~

The sound of Erestor's laughter echoed throughout the stable.  
"Glorfindel!" he cried, "Are you going to be a mother now?" Arwen giggled.

"She is trying to suckle off of you!"

"I am aware," he laughed as he attempted to pry off the foal who was keen on finding a place to nurse from. He talked softly to the filly, "No, _penneth_, I am not your Nana!"

The ellon gently pushed the young horse away, and positioned an index finger before the foal's mouth, which was grabbed onto fervently. Glorfindel looked up to the elves looking into the stall.

"Speaking of such," he said, "What would be a proper substitute? We have no other mares here suitable."

"Goat's milk is very similar to mare's milk," Erestor said, "And easily accessible."

Glorfindel turned back to the young horse. They all knew how difficult it would be to raise an orphaned foal; she would have to nurse at least every two hours, and without proper upbringing she could end up having bad behavior, unlike a horse and for like a person. Yes, it would be difficult, but not impossible.

"We could find her a mare without a foal, one who has had foals before," Glorfindel said, "That way she will have some form of guidance in her young years."

He glanced at each Elf in outside the pen, none having any objections. It seemed that all was set-

"Does she have a name?" Arwen said.

_Oh,_ Glorfindel thought.

He observed the horse who still hopefully bit at his finger; she was of dark bay color, and almost seemed black if one saw her from a distance, with two white socks one each of her forelegs; a small star high on her forehead and a white spot on her nose gave her an endearing look. The filly flicked her ears back and forth and shifted her weight, sighing.

"What about Bereniel?" Erestor suggested.

Glorfindel thought over the name in his head. _Bereniel._ Well, the name certainly fit her.

"Bereniel she shall be, then." Glorfindel smiled, then looked up again as the twins came running back into the stable and spoke to Elrond of what they found, and received the information of the filly's new name. Arwen let herself into the stall and ran her hand over the horse's soft coat.

~0~0~0~0~0~

They called me something, and the strange pretty girl and the one who is trying to be my mama sat in here with me. I was no longer cold, and light was in every corner of the big barn, and there were many scents I knew of and trusted here. And I had a name, too, that rolled off the tongue of these two-legged in a sound I quite enjoyed. I was getting used to this, being here.

I was safe.

**Author's Note:**

Welp, here ya go. First posted fanfiction, and I'm almost 90% sure I'm not doing any of this right

I am pretty sure 'penneth' means 'little one' in Sindarin, though if I am incorrect please let me know. The name Bereniel is 'beren' and 'iel,' meaning 'bold' and 'daughter of' basically, but once again if I am incorrect please let me know

Also I am well aware that there probably were not baby bottles used in Middle Earth at all, I really didn't look up if there could have been or not, so... yeah. I know, I'm just too lazy to think of an alternative.

Horse Terminology:

bay - a coat color (just google 'dark bay horse' and you should see a pretty accurate depiction of what I was aiming for here)

star - yep, just a white star on the horse's forehead. A facial marking

foal - baby horse (under 4 years)

filly - female baby horse

colt - male baby horse

mare - female horse (over 4 years)

stallion - male horse (over 4 years)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

I am so, SO sorry I haven't updated; I haven't exactly had much inspiration for this story at all, and life has been quite busy, but I am always making room to write, so if you are actually really interested in this story, no worries about abandonment of any sort. :) And I am quite sure 50% of the time I was not writing I was trying to figure out how to update things.

I have planned out the timeline for this story, and decided that Bereniel was 1 week old at the beginning of the story, and is 3 weeks old in this chapter. I hope you enjoy. :)

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters nor places you may recognize. Those belong to Tolkien.**

They came every once in a while, and it seemed as though they knew when I was lonely, or hungry; the milk they gave me was different from Mama's, but their nice voices made up for the strange taste on my tongue.

In the few days I had begun to settle in the new environment I had discovered that no, two legged males were not different from stallions, and under absolutely NO circumstances should I nurse off of whatever I may see; I felt quite foolish after asking about that.

Also, the other horse's in the barn were much, _much _bigger than I was; why, I could barely fit my head over the stall door!

Now I watched as the two-legged led horses down the aisle of the big barn.

_How can they stand those ropes on their faces?_ I thought, and tossed my head at the thought of the feeling of an itchy halter upon my head.

My attention was peaked and I snorted an enthusiastic greeting as one of my neighbors, a large, downhill-built mare, was out back into her stall. She merely flicked her ears at me and went straight for her feed bucket.

_I hope I'm never moody like that,_ I thought, swishing my short, fuzzy tail and turning away.

I searched for a few familiar scents and faces in the bustle of the two-legged and my own kind, and nickered expectantly when I spotted one of the two-legged (whose hair now much reminded me of golden colored gelding a few stalls away on the other side of the aisle) that I recognized. Beside him walked a _very_ tall black mare, whose withers were almost as high as the golden-haired one's head. The pair walked towards my own stall.

~0~0~0~0~0~

"Alright, Vanya," Glorfindel said, slipping a halter over the tall mare's head. He pulled her forelock out from underneath the browband before clipping on a rope and leading the well-groomed horse from her large, airy stall. "Let's go meet your new little friend."

The horse's hooves made a loud, hollow _clop, clop, clop _as she walked down the wide stone aisle, unfazed by the everyday noises and voices of the stable. She was of sixteen years of age, and had lived in Imladris her entire life, so nothing was unfamiliar to her; definitely not the touch nor scent of the Elves that raised both her and her offspring.

She'd given birth eleven times in counting, and had been a wonderful mother to every one of the foals she'd raised. The poor mare had lost her most recent baby from foaling difficulties just that season, and that being the first time she had ever lost a foal, the experience confused and frightened her; yet through her grief she was still very accepting to the other mare's foals; Glorfindel had no doubt she would love Bereniel just as much as she would one of her own, and the need was dire that she did, as she still had milk from her last foaling. A horse Bereniel's age couldn't be kept on goat's milk forever.

The mare's ears snapper forward at the sound of Bereniel's high-pitched whinny coming over the stall door, and she approached the stall, walking a little more enthusiastically than she had been that morning.

The mare stuck her huge head over the stall door, with her nostril's flaring, taking in the scent of the tiny foal she towered over; Glorfindel took special precaution in ensuring that if anything were to happen, such as the mare reacting violently, he could restrain her.

But it seemed this would not be the case.

~0~0~0~0~0~

The mare beside the two-legged stared at me with wide eyes, and for a moment I was confused. Where was her baby? All of the other mares had foals, why not she? Did she lose her foal?

My nose wasn't half as big as hers, and she was so much bigger than me... She leaned her head over my stall door. I reached up to meet her nose with mine. Her nostrils flared, eyes wide and curious; mine must have been the same, because she smelled a little like my Mama did!

The two-legged unbolted the stall door and slipped through, and I nipped his leg in a friendly greeting, and the large mare followed, entering the stall after him. He held her lead rope tightly, and I didn't know why; perhaps she liked to bolt away from the two-legged in a game I much enjoyed myself? However, it was quite difficult to run away in such a little space.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Glorfindel watched the mare and foal, pleased at how the pair interacted; he unclipped the lead rope and supervised for a while more. The mare nursed the filly as if she were one of his own, and all was well. Glorfindel left the mare and filly to themselves.

~0~0~0~0~0~

The big mare was much like my mama, more so than the two-legged. Her milk put my stomach at ease, and her warmth made my stall not so lonely. We were left by ourselves for a while, with her eating her hay and me napping or nursing.

It was two moons later, I think, when the tall two-legged (who was my favorite) came to my and Vanya's stall with one of those wretched halters in his hands.

~0~0~0~0~0~

"Come, Vanya!" Gorfindel whistled to the mare whose ears were pricked. The stall door was opened and the halter placed over Vanya's head, and the ellon led the horse from the box. Bereniel followed along, curious of where they were going.

They walked down the aisle, and approached the large wooden doors of the barn, which were wide open. Bereniel's ears were as forward as could be, and her nostrils flared; she called out to any horses that she could see. Glorfindel smiled.

"Hush, _penneth_, we'll get there."

~0~0~0~0~0~

We approached the large doors (which I thought smelled quite nice, along with everything else in the barn; another thing I learned, though, was that they certainly did _not_ taste very nice!). The moment we pasted through the doors and wave of new scents attacked my nose. Fresh air surrounded me, and so many new faces! And there were so many two-legged also!

_Aiya! _I thought in excitement. The mare I walked with gave me a soft reprimanding. She wanted me to be still, but oh, how I wanted to see everything!

My favorite two-legged led my surrogate mother to the left of the big barn and I was met with even more things to see: several pastures were behind barn with pretty fences seperating each one. Inside were different horses, one pasture filled with mares and their babies, others with horses that the two-legged who always were coming in and out with shiny, scary sticks would ride for days at a time. There were stallions, mares, geldings, fillies, colts, so many horses to meet!

My palomino two-legged led us right up to the gate with manyh other colts, fillies, and mamas, and unlatched it before freeing the mare (who was called Vanya, I learned) from her rope. Vanya began to take huge strides into the pasture before stopping and turning. She looked back at me and nickered.

The two-legged gave me a gentle nudge, and I took some steps into the pasture, trusting both him and Vanya. I resumed my place at Vanya's side, and the two-legged shut and latched the gate behind us, leaving us in the massive space.

Vanya immediately began walking again, and I saw two mares, one small, muscular, and chestnut, and other lanky and grey, walking towards us. Much to my delight, I saw two foals, a colt and filly, at their sides.

One mare stretched her nose forward towards me, and I jumped in fright when Vanya squealed and snapped at the mare; I was _not_ expecting that!

While Vanya and the two mares settled their disputes, and managed to sneak a few feet away; the colt and filly did also, curious much like me. The colt was the color of the fencing around the meadows and the filly the color of sawdust except a little more yellow; her mane and tail were white.

We each took turns learning about each other while our mamas did their bickering, and I found out that these two were a little older than me, but not by much. The colt's daddy was a big proud black stallion, and the filly's papa a palomino. Considering I didn't know who my daddy really was, I told them that the two-legged was my father; the two foals were awestruck at this, and we later went to spread the information to the older horses (I would later be embarrassed by this) and the yearlings scoffed; they told us it wasn't how that worked, and that the two-legged couldn't have horse babies. But being young and shying away from the logic of the older horses, my new pasture-mates refused to believe it. And that was the story of how I became known as the filly with a papa who was a two-legged.

How long we played, I couldn't tell. I frequently went back to Vanya for nursing, but me, being ever so bold, would venture away to have my own adventures.

The palomino two-legged (called so because whatever hair he had was gold; I liked the color very much) came later, bringing Vanya and I back to our stall. I had to say farewell to my companions, which I detested, but the golden-haired two-legged's voice was too nice for me to leave it. I began to grow timid without Vanya there, so I followed her back to the gate.

The two-legged put us away in our stall, which was now nice and clean and filled with the scent of the sweet grain Vanya ate. I laid down in exhaustion in the thick bed of straw and quickly succomed to sleep, the last thing I heard being the nice words of the my favorite two-legged.

**Ta Da!**

Horse Terms:

halter - the rope Bereniel spoke of was a halter, and I have never actually rasied a foal, but I'm assuming most of them don't favor them at first

gelding - a castrated male horse, unable to breed

palomino - a coat coloring, google "palomino horse" and you'll understand why Bereniel called Glorfindel one ;)

I feel like I'm forgetting to put something here but... *sigh* Oh, well. Until next time!

**Don't forget to review!**


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